


The Obvious

by worn



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Fluff, Gen, M/M, Soulmates, Underage Drinking, Unresolved Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:35:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28111767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/worn/pseuds/worn
Summary: Morty asks a fortune teller who he'll marry someday and the fortune teller refuses to give him an answer at all. Rick's just there for the alcohol.[12/18/20 - Revised version]
Relationships: Rick Sanchez & Morty Smith, Rick Sanchez/Morty Smith
Comments: 10
Kudos: 106





	1. The Obvious

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This can be taken as platonic or otherwise, interpet it how you want. Soulmates can be a platonic thing. Also, the aliens here are supposed to be like blue isopods because isopods are cute. 
> 
> I think this story hits on a bunch of things I wanted to see in Rick and Morty's relationship but it doesn't really go anywhere, it's just harmless fluff. The resolution is that Morty simply forgets what he gets so worked up about in the first place, which is meant to parallel how Morty ignores the elephant in the room: his excessive codependency and chemistry with Rick.
> 
> As for Rick, we know what he thinks of human relationships - nothing good to say about them. He can deny his attachment to Morty at every moment, and he does, but his actions say more than his words.

"Yes, you can ask any question, Morty," The small blue alien assured him, their antennae wiggling up and down like a calm nodding.

"Oh my-- Oh wow, I haven't even told you my name yet and you already know it!" Morty jumped in excitement. "Rick, this guy must be really good!"

"Y-you realize there's a Pocket Mortys shop right behind us, right? Everyone knows who you are with a face like that, dumbass," Rick replied, pointing a thumb at the kiosk directly in the alien's line of sight.

"Aw, c'mon Rick, please? I have a really, an important thing I wanna know and--"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." 

Rick threw a handful of schmeckles down onto the table and gave a bored glance at the alien fortune teller. He seemed to just want to humor Morty rather than caring whether or not the process was genuine. 

"Just ask your f-- your stupid questions already so we can move on. There's a ton of shit we gotta do before the rides close."

Morty flashed Rick a big smile before turning back to the alien fortune teller and giving a sudden pause.

"Is there, is there like, a way you can prove you know stuff that no one else knows?"

The fortune teller used two of their many small legs to tilt their body over the table and dunked their head into what looked like a fish tank full of swirling water and light. It lasted for a short five seconds before pulling their head out, strangely dry, and responding.

"Yesterday, you got your underwear pulled over your head at school--"

"Aw, geez."

Rick started laughing.

"In front of your teacher, Mr. Goldenfold--"

"Uh--"

"And then got pushed into the girl's locker room. The girls all beat you up and then you were given detention."

Rick pointed and laughed at Morty and Morty glared at him.

"Hahaha! That's like every day for you, what kind of proof is that?"

"Okay, f-fine, I get it..." Morty said, turning his glare onto the fortune teller. "You're-- you're the real deal."

"I'll tell you one more thing I saw before you ask your question," the fortune teller said in their unruffled voice. "Before the end of today, you will both enjoy our planet's natural beauty while drinking our festival's Star Whiskey."

"Aw, hell yeah, dawg! I was planning on grabbing a bunch of that good shit while we're here," said Rick.

The fortune teller gazed at Morty as they said that and didn't look at Rick at all. Morty shifted in discomfort under the alien's beady eyes. 

He was too young to drink on Earth, but anywhere else was fair game, wasn't it? Rick liked to give his grandson a taste of whatever it was he was drinking if he was in a good mood, and he wouldn't take no for an answer.

Morty hoped on some level that the fortune teller wasn't bothered by someone his age drinking on this planet. Even if it was illegal, he had already done far worse.

"Cool, th-thanks... So my question is," Morty said, gearing up to finally get an answer to his heart's deepest longings. "Will-- will I ever marry Jessica? She's the girl I like at school."

Rick gave an amused sneer at Morty over his one track mind and obvious choice of question, otherwise saying nothing and leaving the fortune teller to hurry and get to work.

The small blue alien dunked their head into the fish tank again, but this time, it seemed to take much longer. Twenty - maybe twenty-five - seconds passed in awkward silence. Morty fiddled with his hands in his anxious wait.

When the fortune teller's head resurfaced, they didn't speak immediately, turning their body away from their clients for a moment before speaking.

"Morty, I'm afraid that I can't tell you this information. Not because I don't know the answer, but because you are not ready for it yet."

Morty‘s eyes widened in confusion.

"You have a soulmate," the alien continued. "If I say anything more than that, I will ruin your life, Morty. You have to find the answer yourself, and with time, you will be able to accept it."

The fortune teller pushed away the pile of schmeckles on the table and motioned at Rick to take them back. Rick did so, with an eyebrow quirked in curiosity, seeming to be listening intently.

"S-so, is that a no?" Morty asked.

"It isn't /not/ a yes." The fortune teller's crustacean-like body shook intensely in something like a laugh.

"W-wait, can't you give me a hint? Please?"

"I'm afraid not, Morty. Your life seems to be very complicated. I would advise you not to try and learn the future instead of living it." The alien waved their two little frontal legs at Morty before wiggling them all in unison. "Now, please leave. And enjoy the rest of the festival."

Rick groaned and practically dragged Morty away from the fortune teller's kiosk by the arm, as Morty continued to protest.

"What a waste of time, huh, Morty? Fortune tellers, can't trust 'em, what do they know," Rick said with a belch.

The fortune teller stared at them as they headed to the Pocket Mortys kiosk. Rick bought a Morty doll and stuffed it into his lab coat pocket, saying, "Hey, I like Pocket Mortys as much as the next Rick. Might as well."

Rick dolls were rarer, but sold as hold items for certain types like 'Super Rick Fan Morty'. Morty didn't look like that type, he was obviously a dimension-specific one, yet demanded Rick take him to one of the festival games where a Rick doll could be won.

"It's not like you need one, I'm always with you anyway," Rick said, now being the one tugged along.

"W-well. It's only fair," Morty replied.

Morty couldn't stop thinking about what the fortune teller had told him for the rest of the day. He should have been enjoying himself more but at least half of his mind was occupied thinking about it.

Did he or did he not marry Jessica? If he did, was the knowledge of it enough to jinx it from happening in the first place? If not, what about his soulmate was such forbidden knowledge that knowing it would 'ruin his life'? The whole topic was huge, looming, and scary now.

This was his /love life/. Apparently, he had one in the future and it was a big deal. He couldn't simply not wonder about it, much as he tried not to.

His mind was so distracted that when he shot the fake plasma rifle in the shooting game, he almost shot the alien cashier who was sitting far off to the side. Their little legs wriggled violently, so mad, that Morty lost the right to shoot any more rounds. His grandfather had to win the Rick doll for him.

"Jeez, Morty, we really need to work on your aim. Here's-- here's your dumb doll of me," Rick said, handing it over with one of his own hands in his lab coat pocket. He didn't comment on it any further thankfully, but Morty didn't think he had any right to anyway. 

Morty held it in his hands and looked at it. Its head was like a giant ball covered with wild silver hair, its face sporting a huge grin and big eyes topped by a long unibrow. The toy was well-made, accurate and detailed. Its tiny body wore a blue shirt and dark pants, covered by a white lab coat. He turned it over and noted it even had a little bald spot. It was too big to fit in any pocket, so he would have to lug it around by the arm.

"C'mon, let's go."

They had to go on the rides before trying any of the snacks because Rick said he didn't want Morty throwing the food up all over him and wasting his money (even though Rick was probably more likely to throw up from all the alcohol in his stomach). The machines involved a lot of rocketing up and down, and spinning, and rocking back and forth in the air - very similar to fairs on Earth, except full of the little wriggling blue aliens that were the planet's inhabitants. Morty thought they were kind of cute and the rides were fun, plus neither he nor Rick ended up vomiting on each other yet.

The snack kiosks were full of bizarre festival food he had never tried before, menus full of alien words on the screens above. There were animals Morty didn't recognize served and eaten still alive and squirming around, lots of fried foods, and of course, a barbecue. Some foods that caught Morty's eye were what looked like fried octopus balls if they were purple and translucent, as well as sweets like pink pancakes full of hundreds of eggs, like caviar, and topped with cream. Rick bought both of these for them to eat, biting at the pink pancake-like snacks and letting out an appreciative hum.

"You gotta try these, they're like the chicken and waffles of this place, except they're not like either of those things."

Morty was hungry, so he did, but not without some reluctance. The pink pancake things were less slimy than he thought they would be, more chewy, a sweet and salty combo. The purple ball snacks were crispy and super sweet. He started shoveling food into his mouth, careful not to let any fall onto the Rick doll tucked into his arm.

"Oh my god, these are so good."

"Yeah, told ya."

Rick stuffed his face some more, getting eggs all over his cheek, so Morty grabbed more napkins for them to use. They finished all their food with a huge belch from Rick, before wandering around the kiosks, looking at whatever they hadn't seen yet.

"Here-- here it is, the Star Whiskey," Rick said in a tone of near awe as they came to their last kiosk of the night. The counter inside was full of large glass bottles of alcohol, both the glasses themselves and the liquid inside bewitching in their own ways. The glasses were made with intricate detailing, each one holding images of a crustacean-like alien with angel wings, surrounded by diamond stars above and lush plants below. The whiskey itself was blue-black and sparkling like a galaxy.

Rick greeted the cashier and bought as much as he could carry, which with his pockets being so deep, ended up being around twenty bottles. Morty had no idea how he could carry even that much though.

"I'm gonna bring these back to the car. You wait for me over there and don't move," Rick said, pointing to the rocky area near the lake. It was close by, but Morty hated it when Rick left him alone on other planets.

"Wait, Rick, don't just leave me by myself--"

Of course, Rick had heard it already and was gone before Morty could even complain. What a dick. 

Morty walked to the lake quietly, nearly speedwalking and gripping the Rick doll tight, hoping he wouldn't catch any attention as a tourist on this planet. It was a festival, so maybe he and Rick weren't the only non-locals here, but if there were others, he hadn't seen any. 

At the lakeside, there was a crowd of aliens enjoying the scenery, staring up at the stars and the three moons, or the calm waves of the water, or the greenery of the mountains above. There were a few couples holding each other, others kissing fervently with their mandibles. At least, it looked like kissing to Morty, it could have been something else entirely for all he knew.

"Hey, what's a cute thing like you doing all alone out here?"

An especially pale blue alien scuttled up to him, stood, and waved its antennae in a friendly manner. Morty didn't understand why a human kid like himself attracted aliens so much. Why couldn't he attract hot girls instead? Even if it was good attention, Morty didn't like catching any attention on a planet he wasn't familiar with. Plus, he wasn't really /into/ whatever these guys were.

"H-Hi, just waiting for someone-- I'm not really alone. Sorry." He rubbed the back of his neck, hoping the alien wouldn't take his lack of interest badly.

"Oh, you're taken already? That's too bad, but I'm not surprised." The alien's antennae drooped for a second before popping back up and wiggling steadily.

"Well, I m-m-mean, it's not like that--" Morty stuttered. He wasn't sure what exactly he was going to say next, but the word 'taken' to describe himself, just because of his lack of interest and just because he was waiting for Rick, it was--

"Morty! There y'are," Rick walked up behind the alien and looked between them. "Who's'at you're talkin' to...?" He had a bottle of Star Whiskey in his hand and took another gulp, seeming to be already drunk from it.

"Oh, is this your --------?" The alien said a word Morty didn't understand even with the alien translator Rick embedded into his brain. He would have to tell Rick about it later so he could update the thing.

"Hmm, you two do look nice together. Good luck." The alien scuttled off, turning back to give Morty a sharp up and down motion with their antennae, almost as suggestive as a smirk.

Morty frowned at them in frustration at the obvious miscommunication, but relaxed when Rick came closer. At least with the old bastard nearby, he wasn't in extreme danger of getting kidnapped or assaulted or worse from just standing around.

"Co--C'mon, Morty," Rick said, his voice drawn out with drunken effort. He had already forgotten Morty had been speaking with anyone and seemed to be somewhere else entirely. "Sit down with me, let's enjoy the view."

Morty sat down next to Rick and did so, properly now. When he first arrived on the planet, summery and overgrown, he thought it was nice but he wasn't really the outdoorsy type. He had hoped Rick hadn't taken him here to do something strenuous like search for something by hiking through the jungle.

The festival was fun. It really was. Morty had had a good day for once. Other than the little spots of discomfort here and there, the fortune teller and the shooting game and the ride that made him dizzy and the alien flirting with him a few minutes ago - other than that, he was just fine. Almost completely.

“Rick?” Morty asked. Rick grunted in reply. “What do you think that a soulmate is?”

“Well, tha’s who... who you’re s’posed to /be/ with, right?” Rick said with a laugh, like Morty was an idiot. “Like a matching set. But fuck that. Do wha-- what you want, Morty. Don’t let the universe boss you around into getting lovey-dovey, show it that it’s your bitch.“

“I’m af-fraid, Rick... What if I meet my soulmate and-and-and, they’re a bad person, or they don’t like me, or--“

“Quit your whining, Morty, at least you have a soulmate. Ya know a lotta people don’t even get one of those?” Rick took a long pull from the bottle. Morty hoped he wasn’t talking about himself.

“Do, do you not have one, Rick?”

“Don’t know, don’t care. Listen, Morty, my point is... that, uh... My point is... Huh, I don’t remember.” Rick stayed silent for a second, frowning. “Anyway, if your soulmate sucks shit, I’ll always be around to kick their ass, Morty. You can leave whoever they are, and, and go on adventures with me instead. Actually, you should just ditch ‘em anyway.”

Morty just gave him a look, blank and unamused, while Rick belched so hard he started coughing (a very rare event).

“This is- Rick, c’mon, I’m being serious. What if it’s not Jessica?” Morty still hoped in his heart that it really was her.

Rick looked up at the stars, jaw dropping with the same kind of amazement he had shown when buying his drink.

"It's, it's all so beautiful, Morty."

"I...“ Morty resigned himself to Rick’s drunken lack of attention span. “Yeah. It is."

Rick's gaze dropped to his grandson. He stared for a long moment before holding out his bottle of Star Whiskey.

"D-drink some of this, Morty. It's real good, just don't spit it out, it's ex-ex-- it's not cheap," he muttered, barely able to speak anymore. Drool pooled on the side of Rick's mouth and down his chin. It made Morty want to go back to the kiosks and get more napkins.

Morty looked at the bottle, gleaming in the night, and sighed. He took it from Rick's shaky grasp and brought it to his lips. It was wet already, which was gross, but the whiskey itself was strong, like molten lava on his tongue which burst into hot white stars as it slipped down his throat. He had tried a lot of alcohol but nothing like this, nothing that made him feel like he was getting intoxicated from just having it in his mouth. No wonder Rick liked it so much.

Morty had to stop after taking maybe two sips, otherwise he was in danger of coughing it out and pissing Rick off.

Rick was watching him, and took the bottle back with a grin when Morty swallowed it down and didn't waste any.

"Ugh."

"Good shit, right?" Rick took a long swig. “Feel better now, I bet. Don’t think so much. That’s my job, little-- you little turd.”

Morty looked at the lake, at the moons and the stars, and the mountains, and the couples kissing, and he looked at Rick. His whole body felt so warm and heavy and his mouth felt slack. He really was drunk already. 

"Haha, that's m'boy," Rick said with a soft burp. Morty didn't know what he was referring to until Rick finished talking:

"You-- you're drooling too."

Morty so rarely felt peaceful. But apparently he had passed out or fallen asleep at some point, because anything past that was forgotten to him. Rick must have scooped him up and taken them back home - somehow.

In the morning, Morty woke up with a Rick doll in his arms and wondered how the man could drive without being able to say the word 'expensive' anymore. He remembered the fortune teller was right about the whole whiskey thing. If he was forgetting something, he hoped it wasn’t important. Then he went back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: 12/18/20 - Never done this before, but more dialogue was added to this story to make the resolution more satisfying. I apologize to everyone for being such an amateurish writer. Thank you all for reading.
> 
> \---links---
> 
> * my twitter:  
> [twitter.com/broc0n]


	2. Bonus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made some illustrations for this fic. They're posted on my art twitter: [ twitter.com/hellsmouths ] 
> 
> I'll also post my art somewhere more permanent in the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, my main twitter is [ twitter.com/broc0n ] if you want to see more Rickorty nonsense.


End file.
